


By the Blade

by herasux



Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M, Samurai AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 21:45:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/803593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herasux/pseuds/herasux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roronoa Zoro used to be an honorable samurai in training who had dreams of becoming one of the best--if not the best samurai in the world, but when Kuina, his childhood rival and best friend, died tragically, all dreams were shattered; he grew up taking the path of a samurai for hire, shedding blood to earn a living. While he's strong, his heart is in the wrong place. His life is turned upside down, however, when he meets Usopp, a fellow samurai who also has a childhood darkened by death. Whether meeting Usopp is a good thing or bad thing, only time will tell. HIATUS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By the Blade

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure where I'm going with this yet, but this fanfiction was inspired by the beautiful artwork cover of a Japanese Doujin of the pairing Zoro/Usopp featuring the pair in what I think to be samurai attire.

Slowly standing from his kneeling position in the dark green plains from his successful counterattack, Roronoa Zoro resumed regulating his breathing until it returned to normal as he flicked away the blood from the blade he had unsheathed to deal with the lesser samurai--no, they were too worthless to be called even _that_. They were fools, fools with a deathwish who weren't even smart enough to realize that their own deaths would come swiftly without even having a chance to draw blood. The bodies of the foolish men, five in all, laid strewn about the plains, most of them not too far from where Zoro was standing. As he gave them a final, minute look, it was only then that his eyes began to lose that dangerous edge that should have tipped them off in the beginning. There had been no familiar sound of jingling coins, so it would seem that they were not only worthless, but poor as well--unless killing Zoro would have fattened their pockets.There _was_ a large bounty for his head, after all. Of course, no one would ever be able to claim that money--not if he still had an ounce of breath in his lungs.

Ah well. Enough thinking about that. Dark eyes glanced skyward for a moment as the green haired samurai moved to scratch the back of his neck idly. The stench of freshly spilled blood was slowly beginning to take its toll--taking him back to a memory that he didn't want to remember. Mmh. Maybe he should have wounded one of the idiots and tried to get some answers out of him--or at least made him escort him back to the village in the right direction. It'd take hours to find his way back otherwise.

God damn it. 

Turning his dark gaze to the horizon once more, Zoro turned away from the lifeless bodies as he patted his kimono lightly in an attempt to feel for a flat wad of paper encased in a folded leather sheet tied with a leather string--a recent payment for taking the life of a somewhat well known rogue samurai who had been terrorizing a small village and using it as his base to do what he pleased. The killing had taken place only four days ago, and no other individual seemed to be hell bent on bothering the village since then, but there was a bonus: the grateful villagers happily provided him food and drink whenever he passed through to get to other, larger villages. With this thought in mind, Zoro finally began to take steps away from the dead men. The sun was still high in the sky, but it would probably be late in the evening before he was able to get to a decent ramen shop and eventually make his way home.

 A sea of a sea of a sea of green against the blueness of the sky was the green haired samurai's only avaliable scenery as he moved one foot infront of the other, seeming to walk along an endless, vast expansion of green. The only thing keeping him motivated was the chance to get some high quality, but cheap, ramen into his system along with a few bottles of sake and the blissful sensation of sleep.  Sleep. Sleep was important, especially so because of the additional training he put himself through when he wasn't off on a job. Once his head hit the futon, he would know no more--if he found his way back that is. His atrocious sense of direction had always foiled him in the past, but he if had a job to do--someone to go fight--he always managed to get where he needed to be, surprisingly.

* * *

As he had predicted, the sun had gone down, giving way to the evening. It was only the early beginning of fall, prompting chilly evening winds to fiddle with the three identical earrings in his left ear and the long sleeves of his kimono. The sash, thankfully, stayed tight and firm around his waist. The cold was making him sleepy though, prompting him to move his free hand--the other resting on the hilt of one of his swords--to rub at his scarred eye lightly for a few moments. A few paces ahead of him was the ramen shop that he had been thinking about going to, its bright lighting signalling that it was still open for business. With a bit of a smirk, he couldn't help but make a comment to himself.

"The Old Man must be waiting for me then," he said with a small shake of the head at the thought of the older man keeping the shop open so late just so he could receive Zoro's business. His boots thunked quietly against the packed earth for a few moments longer until he paused before the shop, lifting one of the white and green flaps that hung in the entrance. Upon doing so, the smell of smoke filled Zoro's nostrils immediately, causing his nose to wrinkle. He still hadn't lost his bad habit then...

The ramen shop was quiet-- _empty_ , except for the Old Man himself who had his backed turned away from his counter, doing something that Zoro couldn't see. He wore the traditional uniform and hat of a ramen chef, but it was just one of the things that he complained about--or liked to complain about when it was just the two of them. His server had left him long ago after being urged by the man himself, wanting her to see more than just the walls of the ramen shop and the daily customers who came in--or at least that was what he claimed. From the samurai's perspective, the Old Man was a decent guy, so just maybe, what he said, was true.

Stepping inside, the man behind the counter straightened his back as Zoro moved take up space on one of the empty stools.

Taking off the hat for a moment, the man ran a hand through his pale green hair before placing the hat on his head once more and spoke, not turning to see who had walked in; his teeth tigthened just a little on the pair of cigars resting in his mouth. He already knew as he had been waiting for him all this time. As a samurai with no sense of direction--he had seen it in order to believe it--he chalked it up to the Kid getting lost on the way back from wherever he had gone. It brought a smirk to his face, the hilarity of such a promising swordsman unable to find his way by himself.

"Got lost again Kid?" he questioned, taking a drag off of both cigarss, further polluting the air in the ramen shop, but it easily filtered out through the entrance.

Zoro, upon hearing the question, tensed, and then scowled, ignoring the rush of embarrassment that he suddenly felt.

"Not lost, ambushed," was the mumbled reply as he rested an elbow on the counter, head coming to rest in his hand. "You still haven't quit that habit, Smoker."

"Heh. You know what I always say, ah? I'll quit when you stop getting lost like a little kid."

It was that comment that never failed to enlarge a vein in Zoro's forehead, but all he wanted was to fill his stomach and go home, so he let it go, for now.

"Tch. Give me the usual **Old Man**."

Smoker shook his head and headed towards the kitchen in the back. He always ordered the same type of ramen, and when he was in the mood which was more often than not, the same type of sake. "Yeah, yeah. Keep your kimono on." The old man thing was getting old though--for a lack of a better word! He was barely out of his late twenties!

Snorting at this, Zoro drummed the fingers of his free hand against the wooden counter as he waited for his meal. When a steaming bowl of beef ramen and two bottles of sake was placed infront of him, the samurai took up chopsticks he had swiped from the bamboo cup that held several of them and broke them before proceeding to devour the contents of the bowl as Smoker leaned against the wall behind the counter.

Zoro, even though he was a Kid, was one of his more interesting customers despite the fact that he was a samurai for hire. There was something about him that stood out from other samurai--something ... something that Smoker couldn't exactly put a name on, not yet, anyway. He hadn't been coming here long enough for him to be able to read him well enough to determine just what that something was. One day though, he'd figure it out.

* * *

With a full belly and a drunken flush to his cheeks, Zoro left a few bills for the older man before making his way out of the shop.

"Keep the change," he commented as the flap fell down behind his disappearing back.

Smoker snorted at this as he moved to take the bills.

"You never leave much," was the amused reply even though the Kid probably hadn't heard it. Maybe he never did.

Heading past several homes, eventually, Zoro began to walk down the familiar dirt path to his own home. It wasn't grand or anything, but it provided him a place to lay his head at night. Pausing before the sliding door, he slid it off to the side before entering and took off his boots before sliding it close behind himself. It was dark, but he had walked in this darkness long enough to understand where he needed to go to get to his room. Home sweet home as they said. Yawning lightly, he walked down the short hall to his room and entered, removing his socks first. He dropped them near his futon and set down his swords on the other side for him to grab immediately if needed before undressing down to his underwear. Lighting the lone lamp in his room, he took out the novel that he had left under his pillow and read a few pages as he had settled down in his futon before falling asleep for the remainder of the night.


End file.
